An Abundance of Destiel
by zurpocalypse
Summary: A collection of Destiel oneshots that'll satisfy your needs. From smut, to angst, to fluff, to whatever! Author's Note: You have been warned...
1. A Helping Hand

It was an exausting day at work. When the rosey colored clouds of dawn covered the sky, the Winchester Brothers and their angel were busy shooting the brains out of demons with their purified bullets, up untill the sun fell below the horizon. It was around 8 o' clock at night. Sam had crashed on the couch with a book about Witches on his face that he had read earlier, before the Sandman came and casted a sleep spell on him. Castiel was out eating a smorgasbord of food, a majority of which were burgers, at a local diner. Dean, on the otherhand, had more personal business to attend to.

Like most men, Dean had needs. Needs that could only be attained with the help of a bottle of lotion and his left hand. While his brother slept in the other room, Dean was in his room, illuminated only by the street lights outside. He unbuckled his belt and laid down on his back ontop in the matress. He pulled up his grey shirt and bit down on the bottom part of it, exposing his toned chest and abs. His left palm was lightly coated with the creamy lotion. Through past experience, he doesn't put as much lotion for stimulating self pleasure as before because it created a large mess that was a drag to clean up afterward. He slid his hand down his jeans as he starred up at the ceiling. He wrapped his fingers around his erected member and slowly slid his hand up and down. His mind was flooded with thoughts of busty, curved women with long, curly locks. Warm cum oozed out and made it's way in between his fingers. His right hand gripped tightly on the sheets and his back arched upward as he fondled himself more. His breaths grew heavier and heavier the faster he slid his hand up and down.

He slowly closed his eyes as he was about to reach his climax, when suddenly he felt a strong presence on top of him. When he opened his bright jade colored eyes, he locked eyes with a set of pale sky blue eyes.

"Cas!" He exclaimed with a slight moanful tone. As he screamed, some of his cum ejaculated onto Castiel's dirty tan trench coat. His face flushed red from both the feeling of embarrissment and anger. He instinctively pushed the angel off of him, to which Castiel fell onto the floor. Through his heavy breaths, he managed to say, "What the hell dude?! What are you doing here?!"

Castiel lifted himself off the ground and up onto his feet. He explained, "I finished my meal at the diner. It was still early, so I thought it would be nice to have some time to communicate together."

While the angel examined the cum stain on his trench coat, Dean hastily zipped up his pants and sat up on the side of the bed. "It's nice that you wanna bond and stuff, but I'm a bit busy now," he said in an angry tone as he rubbed his left hand with the blanket to remove the substance.

"You don't seem busy anymore. What were you doing exactly?" The curious angel asked with his eyes narrowed at the demon hunter.

Dean found himself in an awkward position. He had assumed that Castiel already knew about sex related things, let alone masturbation, especially with all the moments of him accidentally watching porn on the t.v. "Well Cas... Umm... It's kinda hard to explain."

"Then please explain to your most capable ability. I am curious as to why were you fondling your own penis and excreted semen on my coat?"

"Don't say it like that! This wouldn't have happened if you knocked on the door like a normal person instead of poping ontop of me!" He growled.

"Why are you angry at me? I simply stated what you were doing."

Dean made no further comment on that matter. There was no doubt that Dean admired Castiel's innocence. He felt as if he were a father giving his pre-pubescent son "the talk". He tried to explain to the curious man to the best of his ability without getting flustered. "It's like this you see. When a guy wants to relieve himself of sexual tension and lacks a partner to do so, he would often resort to self pleasure. Most of the time a bottle of lotion and something pleasurable, like a Playboy magazine to read or a busty woman in the mind, would do the trick."

Castiel's eyebrows were frowed and his eyes were squinted. His confusion led him to ask, "I find burgers pleasurable. Can I fondle my penis to burgers?"

"That's a different kind of pleasure, Cas. Masturbation is for sexual pleasure."

"But I thought one needed a partner to feel sexual pleasure."

"Not necessarily. As what you just witnessed, one person can be enough."

The angel nodded his head as it seemed that he finally understood the concept. Out of the blue, he asked, "Can I try to 'masturbate' right now?"

Dean gulped. "Umm... Sure? I guess you can try in the other roo-."

Suddenly, Castiel had begun to unbuckle his belt. Before the angel was able to pull down his pants, Dean shot up from the bed and gripped Castiel's cold hands, which were on the top rim of his pants.

"What the hell Cas?! Why are you stripping?!"

"I'm going to try it right now. So if you would please let go so I could masturbate." Dean had struggled to keep Castiel's pants up, but was overpowered fairly quick. The angel had managed to pull down his trousers, along with Dean. The wide eyed demon hunter's nose was a meere few inches from the angel's bulge.

Dean, with his face colored like the filling of a cherry pie, looked up to Castiel and exclaimed, "Wait Cas! You don't even know the first thing about jacking off!"

"Then what's the first step?"

"You gotta put lotion on your hand to as a lubricant make jerking off easier and more pleasurable." Dean had no clue why he said that. But it was too late for him to say anything else to stop the angel.

Castiel reached outward for the bottle of lotion on the bedside table and grabbed it. He squeezed the bottle and squirted enough lotion onto his right hand that some oozed out of his palm and splattered onto the floor. Dean, while trying to rub the mess clean with Castiel's pants, yelled, "Cas! No more!"

Somehow, Castiel wasn't paying attention to Deans words exactly and misunderstood his sentence. "Add more?" He asked. He then accumilated more onto his hand. Some of the lotion even landed on Dean's sweaty cheek's and onto his shirt when he tried to snatch the lotion away.

Then, both men heard a lout thud from the floor. Dean felt that the atmosphere had gotten heavy. They turned their heads to the side. Dean held his breath when he saw who had entered the room.

The long haired man, who stood inbetween the door frame, thundered, "Can you guys shut it! I'm trying to sleep! And I can't do that becuse you two are causing a racous-!" His eye's widened and his jaw dropped. Sam couldn't even finish his sentence. How could he? What could any person say or do when they see their brother kneeling beside a man's crotch while being covered in a suspicious white substance?

Dean felt cold and his face was pale. He felt numb, like everything in his mind left his body. "S-S-Sammy! T-This isn't what it l-looks like!"

"Your brother's right Sam. This is all a misundersta-."

"Nope! I don't wanna hear it!" He blurted out.

"But Sammy-!"

"Save it Dean!" He shut his eyes and took a deep breath. He calmly stated, "I'm gonna go back to the living room, where I will lay on the couch and sleep again for a few more hours. I never walked in on this. I never saw anything. I. Was. Never. Here. Kapish."

"Kapish," they both repeated, feeling shame and embarissment. Both men watched as Sam closed the door behind him with a look on his face as if he'd lost faith in the world.

As he pulled up his pants, Castiel said, "I'm sorry, Dean. I made this situation uncomftorable for you and Sam. I'll leave you alone." He lowered his chin down to his chest with a dissapointed look as he walked toward the door. His pale hand was on the silver knob when he heard Dean exclaim at him to not leave. Castiel turned his head toward the demon hunter and asked, "What is it?"

Dean scratched the back of his head. At first, he wanted nothing to do with teaching Castiel about self pleasure, but now he felt sorry for the man. Castiel was just an angel with a curiosity as big as a 4 year old's. And since Sam had already walked in on them, he felt that he had nothing to lose at this point. "I can teach you a few things about jerking off. If you're still up for it."

After getting themselves cleaned up, Dean had begun to teach Castiel about self pleasure. Dean sat Castiel up on the side of the bed with his pants off, tranch coat folded neatley to the side, and shirt unbuttoned. Dean knealt in front of him to observe his progress. Dean squirted a bit of the lotion onto the angels left hand. He then told Castiel to grasp his own member softly, since it was his first time. Which he did. After a couple moments of watching Castiel struggle and getting a bit fustrated, Dean asked him how he felt.

"I'm not feeling anything," he stated as he slid his hand up and down his shaft. "Am I doing something wrong? "

Dean cupped his chin with his thumb and index finger. "Let me think... What's in your mind? What are yo thinking of?"

"Nothing," the angel said bluntly.

"That's your problem, Cas. You need to think of someone who is sexually stimulating to you. Someone who make's you feel all hot and bothered."

Castiel paused for a moment. "Hot? And bothered?"

"Yeah. You know, feeling warm and tingly. Do you get what I'm tryin' to say?"

"A little bit. Just be a bit more patient with me," he said before he resumed to his practice.

"Don't worry. Take your time."

Castiel starred down into the hunter's eyes. His eyes reminded him of the vivid, bright green colors of trees deep within a forest as the sunlight hit's behind. He also noted the other feature's of Dean face, like his stubble on his chin, his ruffles light brown hair and his soft, charming smile. Starring into Dean's comeliness made the angel feel different. For some reason, he felt something that he could only explain as... Hot. His hot breaths grew heavier, his black eyebrows pursed upward and sweat formed on his face. Not to mention that he had a chill run up his spine when he locked eyes with Dean. Is this the "bothered" part that Dean talked about earlier? If so, it was working. Soon after, he begun to emmit soft moans.

"Attaboy, Cas. You're doing great," Dean cheered. It was funny for him to not think that there was anything wrong with watching a man masturbate right in front of him. He even felt proud.

Castiel began to slide his hand faster up and down his shaft. Warm cum ran inbetween his fingers, down his pale thighs and onto the bed sheets. But he didn't feel pleased enough. His right hand had gripped the grey sheets of Dean's bed, but found it's way to gripping Dean's honey brown hair.

"Cas! What the-!"

"D...Dean... P-Please b-bare with this f-for a few m-moments..." He said, in between breaths. He slowly pulled Dean closer to his chest and nuzzled his nose onto his soft hair. He caught a few wiffs of a faint scent of Old Spice, one of Dean's favorite brand. "Almost... T-There..." He muttered.

Dean never made any struggle whatsoever to leave Castiel's grip.

Castiel had reached his climax. He emmited a deep, low, orgasmic moan as more cum ran down his hand and squirted up onto his toned stomach. The angel had also accidentally ejaculated onto Dean's grey shirt. "S-Sorry... About that," he chuckled as he recalled that Deja Vu moment from earlier. Castiel fell back on the bed and let out a deep, tired sigh. "Th...That... was a r-riveting experience... I'm exhausted." He leaned on his forearms and had watched the hunter grab the bottom end of his grey, stained shirt and pull it up off his body. Confused as to seeing Dean's toned torso, Castiel asked, "Dean? Why have you stripped?"

Dean made his way inbetween Castiel's bare thigh's. Watching Castiel's facial expression's as he touched himself turned the hunter on. He wanted to see the angel's expressions if he were the one to fondle his shaft, or even thrust his inside the angel. At this point, Dean was no where past the point of return. He flashed a toothy grin at the angel and replied, "I'm not done yet, Cas. There's still plenty of things for you to learn." He leaned in close to Castiel's pale ear and whispered, "And I plan on helping you 'till you get it right."

Dean pulled away from his ear and moved his face close to the angel's. What Dean didn't know was that Castiel had been able to pleasure himself because of his thoughts being filled with the demon hunter. He commented, "Alright. But it might take some time to perfect the technique."

"Didn't you hear what Sammy said earlier. We have more than enough time to practice."

The edge's of Castiels lips curved upward softly. He shifted his head close to Deans lips where they're barely toughing and stated in a soft, raspy voice, "Then by all means, be my helping hand."


	2. A Forbidden Affection

Castiel was an angel that was devoted to one thing only. Temperance. He was in charge of keeping all the other angles in check when it came to their actions and behavior, like assisting with the new angels to overcome even the slightest amount of gluttony from the abundant amount of food, or even counseling an angel who had lost their fallen companion. However that all changed when he caught a glimpse of a beautiful male from below the clouds.

His comeliness took his breath away. He had only looked down for half a second, but it was enough for his heart to skip a beat. He had often seen humans from below the pure white clouds, but had never stopped to check them out, but Dean was an exception. His dark, ruffled brunette hair, deep red plaid shirt with rolled sleeves that gave way to his biceps, skin tight jeans and his breath taking eyes. Whenever he stared into his eyes, he was taken to a field of bright green grass on a warm, sunny day.

Falling in love with a mere mortal was strictly forbidden in Heaven. Doing so is punishable by having one's wings ripped off.

Every so often, the raven haired angel would sneak out from his daily job and surreptitiously watched as the man took on minimal tasks, like shopping for more plaid shirts with his brother, purchasing cherry pies, and even watching movies. Watching the human made him feel more than just a being used to purpose is to control others. He developed feelings that he'd never been familiar with. His heart races whenever he drove his car too fast on the freeway. His hands would clench and his chest would ache whenever he talked with a female at bar. And his cheeks would be wet from the small droplets of water that filled his eyes whenever he woke up from a nightmare and had no one to comfort him. He wanted to hold him whenever he needed help, he wanted to give him fresh baked pies just to see his big smile, he wanted to talk to him about all the wonders of life and beyond. He wanted to do everything for Dean.

One day, Dean walked down a littered alleyway on a cold night as Castiel stared down with loving eyes. Suddenly, a man in a dark Hood sped walked toward him, grabbed him by the shoulder and started to harass the man. The angel was filled with red hot rage. He couldn't sit around and watch helplessly as his beloved was in trouble. Nearby he found a man in a tan trench coat smoking a cigarette on some stairs a couple blocks away. A suitable vessel for him to take since they resembled each other. The man's soul was sent Elsewhere, whereas Castiel's soul transferred into his body. Now gone from heaven, he didn't take the time to stop and admire his physical body. He ran as fast as he could to Dean. Surprisingly when he got to him, Dean had thrown the assailant into the dumpster with ease. He turned his head to the side and locked onto the angel's deep sea blue eyes. Castiel was fill with so much emotions that his head felt as if it were to explode. His lips trembled, his knees felt weak and his throat felt dry. Castiel wanted to say hello, but Dean attacked him too, thinking he was another assailant. It was only until he pleaded that he wasn't an assailant under her kicks and punches did he stop. Feeling sorry for him, he half carried, half dragged the beaten man and flung his body into the backseat of his '67 black Impala. He then drove him to the house, where he tended to his bruises and cuts.

Dean was cautious of the dirty man at first. His black stubble, ruffled black hair and dirty trench coat made him appear as though he were an extremely pale bum. But his personality made up for his appearance. He always smiled in front of him and appeared friendly toward him and his brother, Sam, who was much more well built than his smaller older brother. He helped with chores even though he wasn't asked too and he cooked food for them. Dean grew fond of the angel and helped him look more appealing, by that he meant washing his clothes and giving him a clean shave.

Castiel never appeared nervous when he ran errands with the brothers outside of the house, but on the inside he was internally screaming his lungs out. It was extremely difficult for the angel to adjust to the boisterous society of speeding vehicles, concrete towns and loud, irritating sounds people call "music". Even with all those things that Heaven lacks, they didn't matter much to him. All he needed in his new life was his tan trench coat and Dean. Castiel and Dean enjoyed the many other aspects of life, like taking strolls together at the park and eating apple pie together. Life for him was better than expected.

From that moment on, their relationship had flourished. From all the movies he watched, he wanted his and Dean's relationship to go farther by making the first move, but he was to nervous to even touch him. However, it was in fact Dean who made the first move. He pulled the classic arm across the shoulder trick as they watched_ City of Angel's_. He cupped his stubble chin and pulled him in for a kiss. The whole concept of kissing confused the angel, so their first time was extremely sloppy. It wasn't until Dean explained it to him that he understood. From then on, kissing had been more and more intimate. He then realized that he was committing a severe sin. The idea of lust wouldn't have even crossed his mind if he were back in Heaven, but now he didn't give a damn anymore. He had broken that rule already when they copulated in the backseat of the Impala. The nervous angel made sure to be gentle, since it was his first time engaging in intercourse. Again, it was a sloppy at first, but ends perfectly for both of them. They cuddled in the backseat with the tan trench coat wrapped around them. Castiel was in a state of pure bliss. He had his one and only snuggling beside of him as they had a romantic view of the warm colored sunrise. Was it all too good to be true?

One night, Castiel slept with his arm around his lover, when he felt the warmth from his body fade away. When he opened his eyes, he stared straight down a few inches onto his own face. He was physically asleep, but he was awake. Iron chains wrapped around his ankles and wrists so tight that he bled when he struggled to escape. He desperately tried to scream at himself to wake up, but the chains pulled him up to a place consumed by darkness. A bright spotlight shone down on him. His ankles and wrists were restrained by heavy chains that linked onto the floor. Suddenly, apparitions of dark hands placed themselves on his wings. They tugged and pulled on his wings. the wings tore off from his back. He screamed in agony Just when the pain couldn't get worse, he felt a severe burning sensation on his back. A hot iron crest was pressed onto his skin and created a charred imprint of wings, a sign of exile. How was this possible? He could only be exiled from Heaven if had associated with a... A demon...

When he woke up, the pain shot through his body. His blood stained the sheets, but it didn't matter. He looked to his side and saw the empty space on the bed. Dean was no where in sight. He found a folded piece of paper on her purple pillow. He unfolded the note and read:

_Dear Cas, _

_I knew you were an angel the moment I first laid my eyes on you. I know you must despise me at this moment, knowing my true identity as a demon. I've caused you so much pain and suffering. Even now that I'm gone, you'll still suffer. I made you fall in love with me. and for that you lost your wings. You can no longer get back home because of me. _

_Don't try to look for me. Odds are you'll never see me alive again. It 's heart wrenching for me to leave you like this, but it's time for me to leave your life. Forever._

_I'm sorry._

_-Dean_

Dean was indeed an angel. Just not the type of angel that floats on clouds and strums on a harp all evening. It all started when he had unknowingly called upon a demon when he and Sam were on the verge of death after their car had swerved off the road as they tried to avoid a collision with a drunk driver. Sadly, that was the same day that Castiel was backed up on work to keep on eye on Dean. Out of desperation, Dean made a deal with the demon that her soul would belong to Satan if he and his brother could to live on Earth. Dean hadn't told Castiel about the incident because he feared that the angel would abandon him, an action he was traumatized by when his father abandoned him and Sam when the brothers were young.

Tears rolled down his pale cheeks and dropped onto the paper. His head felt as though someone were hitting it with a hammer. He felt a pain in his chest that was far more worse than the pain inflicted when his wings were ripped from his back. He felt as though his heart had been ripped out of his chest. The fallen angel had completely lost it. He cursed everything. He cursed life, he cursed, he even used the Lord's name in vain. He rage led him to wreck the room. He threw the bedside table across the floor, shattered the windows and flipped the mattress. He collapsed lethargically on the floor from blood loss and sobbed. Castiel didn't want to accept the fact that the person he gave his everything to was a demon. He couldn't believe that he fell in love with Dean.

How could he have been such a fool?

_One year passed..._

Castiel's once clean shaven face was replaced by a beard, his breath often smelled of the pungent aroma of Jack Daniel's, and his hair and clothes were caked in dirt. His cheekbones were shown and his hands were extremely thin. There were some days where Castiel wouldn't have the energy to go on for days, so he would sit on the bed that he once shared with his love and think. Though, he would every so often check up on Sam to see if she was doing fine. With a beautiful wife and baby on the way, it seemed as though Castiel's life was as pathetic as a stray dog. The lonesome nights alone in the empty house had taken a toll on the man. He was all alone, with only his thought's too keep him company. Thought's of Dean filled his mind throughout the day. His bright smile and quirky personality forever embedded in his mind. He despised everything. He couldn't take it anymore.

Castiel sought no other reason to live on anymore. He wanted to hear Dean's husky voice, he wanted to touch his smooth skin, he wanted to see his beauty again. As he rummaged through the medicine cabinet for pills, he found a small blade. Something inside told him to use the blade on himself. He hesitated when he tried to take it, but what had he got to lose?

He hopped into the empty porcelain tub and leaned back on the rim. To him, pain was just a temporary obstacle for him to get through. He rolled up his sleeve, inhaled the crisp air and held it. He pressed the blade against his wrist and slid it across with one fast stroke. He repeated the same action with his other wrist and exhaled. The sharp, stinging pain of his cut came appeared slowly just like how the blood poured out. He watched as the crimson red liquid rolled down his arm and onto the tub. His body felt limp and lethargic as blood poured out of his wounds. Taking one's own life gave that person a free seat on the train to Hell. He looked up at the white ceiling as darkness rolled in. The side's of his lips curled up at the thought of meeting his beloved again.

He inhaled a deep breath. With his eyes watered and voice as brittle as his battered heart, Castiel muttered, "I'll be with you soon... Dean..."

Hell was far more different than the one's depicted in church. The place that was thought to be consumed entire of flames and magma, was far much colder. Dead, naked trees that towered above the man and a dark, gray sky that looked as though not a single speck of light had pass through its crevices. A mysterious fog covered what looked like a gravel path that led to eternity. Castiel felt something calling for him. Not physically, but mentally. With his hands in his pockets and his elbows held next to his cheeks, he slowly strolled down the path.

Suddenly, his heart leapt when he heard the low growls and snarls of dogs. Frozen with fear, Castiel watched with shaken eyes as three large dogs crept out from behind the trees. Their sharp, amber teeth were flashed at him, black fur covered them head to toe, their hind legs and slim bodies looked as though they could outrun any creature that came their way. But what made him more fearful was their glowing, bright red eyes that were filled with malevolence. They made their way towards him and circled around the shivering man. They sniffed He had gathered enough courage in him to bent his knee forward and darted away from the animals. He only got so far, before the dogs tackled him to the ground. Their razor sharp teeth dug into his arms and legs. Castiel groaned in pain as the dogs mangled his body. He punched and kicked the creatures, but it seemed ineffective. Suddenly, the dogs stopped and pointed their noses at the direction where they came from.

"Enough," shouted a low, husky disembodied voice. At that instant, the dogs had cowered away behind the cover of the trees with their tails between their legs.

Castiel had crawled toward a tree and pressed his back on the bark. His eyes widened as a familiar figure emerged from the shadows. His ruffled, dark brunette hair, deep red plaid shirt, skin tight jeans and bright green eyes that took him back to a familiar plain of green grass and life.

"Cas?! Is that you?!"

Her coughed up blood and nodded. "Yes... It's me, Dean."

"Well I'll be damned." He chuckled for a bit and continued, "Even in Hell, I'm still making puns. It's been a while, Cas."

"It's nice to see you too. You're in good shape," he said sarcastically as he noted his blood stained hands and protruding fangs. "What have you been doing for the past year?"

"A year?! That long?!" He pressed his palm on the side of her head and continued, "Hell is a lot different than back home. A lot different. We don't poke people with pitchforks for all of eternity. There's sorta a business atmosphere to this establishment. Its quite-."

The more he listened to the demon, the more he noticed that he was... Aberrant... He spoke with honeyed words. Soft and sweet, but had the same tone as those cheesy business men on the television. Had he made so many shady deals that tone of voice assimilated into his normal speech? Dean talked about death as though it were as easy as plucking a flower. He explained that he

"Anyway, enough about me," he knelt down beside him and asked, "What about you? What are you doing here?"

"Well Dean, like most people, I died." He rolled up his sleeves and showed her the large, deep cut on his both his pale wrists. "I took my own life."

He pressed her fingers lightly on the flesh. "Well that's a bummer," he said under her breath as he rubbed the cut in slow circular motions. "What'd you clock out for?"

"I did it... I did it so I could be with you again," he groaned as he clenched his aching chest.

He clasped his hands together and awed at his reply. "You took your own life for me? That's so romantic, Cas." Suddenly, Dean's face had grown flat, emotionless. "That's so typical of you do do, Cas. But I told you not to look for me. Remember?"

"I couldn't stand being without you. I was miserable without you. My heart ached for you, my hands longed for your skin and-."

"That's very sweet of you to say. I missed you too." He truly wanted to stay with Castiel. He wanted his friendly company, his warm embrace, he wanted Castiel back with him. But like the other's in Hell, he had to pay the ultimate price for making a deal with the Devil. He slowly backed away into the forest. "I loved you, Cas. But I can't be with you."

Castiel 's heart sank. "W-Wait... D-Dean! Don't go!" He shouted in a brittle voice when she disappeared into the shadows. "Don't leave me again! Dean!" Blood poured out from his wound as he placed his hand behind the tree and tried to lift himself up. "Dean! Dean!" He fell to his side and sobbed onto the gravel. He couldn't stand to lose her again. "I love you," he muttered. "Come back... P-Please."

Just when he thought he had lost Dean again, he reappeared. He looked up at him, into his pitch black eyes.

The demon stretched his arm down at him and offered a suggestion. "If you truly love me Castiel, then become a demon with me."

**_Become a demon?_**

"If you give your soul to me, you won't have to suffer anymore. We can stay together for all of eternity. However, that doesn't mean that I-." Castiel reached out his injured arm and clasped his bloody hand onto Dean's. "Wait! You didn't let me finish!"

He smiled at the startled man. "It doesn't matter. As long as I'm by your side, I'll endure anything just to be with you. I love you, Dean."

Dean released his grip on the angel's hand and knelt down beside him again. He cupped both of his cheeks with his blood stained hands. Dean's colder than ice hands sent a cold shiver down Castiel's spine, yet he still found some warmth through their touch. Dean's eyelids dropped slowly as he leaned his head closer to Castiel's. In that moment as their lips met, Castiel was taken back to the time where smiles were plaster on their faces. A time where there was much more affection, compassion and tenderness. Somehow, he still felt as though the kiss had no real love toward it as if it were just a simple, hi-five. Just as Dean parted their lip's, Castiel grasped his hair and pulled him toward his lips. This time, their kiss was much more rough and vehement. The beaten man had yearned for this moment for a very long time. Unlike the other, this kiss had much more passion and fervor to it. Their tounges slid across one another's and their hands ran through one anthers hair. A thin bridge of saliva collapsed as their lips parted.

"The contract is sealed," Dean muttered under his hot breath.

Castiel pressed is forehead against Dean's and remarked, "Wonderful... We can be together now, like old times."

Dean pulled himself back from Castiel's touch. "But didn't you know, Cas," he grinned. When he turned back, his eyes change. The once forest green eyes that were filled with so much vivaciousness, so much curiosity, vanished. The eyes that Castiel had been infatuated with, shifted to the void that was the color of nothing. "Demon's don't fall in love."

"Well, neither do angels. But I fell for you, Dean."

Dean chuckled as he helped the man up on his feet. The angel then felt the pain of his injuries slowly disappear. His cuts and bruises had vanished. The pain had left him. "That's interesting. I would like to see how this plays out. There's no guarantee that I'll fall in love again that soon."

"Don't worry my love." Castiel lifted his hand to his lips. He didn't care if it took ten, a hundred or a thousand years. He was just glad to have his beloved back. "We have all of eternity, together."


	3. Cum Bucket

_Author's Note: This is a bit smutty mixed with some angst. I'm not a big believer in warnings, unless people comment telling me to do so, then I__** might**__ change my mind. Until then, dive into some surprises._

"Dean? Are you alright?" Castiel asked. He had come out from Sam's room, who had been feeling sick lately and just fallen asleep. Cas came out with the intention to lower Dean's voice so his sick brother wouldn't wake up.

Dean had just come back from an evening of drinking at a local bar. He wanted to spend some time with his buddies Cap. Morgan and Jack Daniels. After his drinking session, he wobbled to his car and drove it surprisingly well all the way home, even though it was past midnight. Not even the power of alcohol could cause him to scratch his Impala. He leaned his forearm on the doorway and replied, "I...I'm fine, Cas. Just.. Just a bit on the edge... That's all."

The angel took note of Dean's slurred speech and loose body movements, signs that he may have had too many shots of distilled liquid barley. "Can you keep your voice down, please?"

"What for?!"

Castiel shuffled toward the drunk man, pressed his index finger to the drunk mans moist lips and shushed him. "Your brother isn't feeling well," he whispered. "He's sleeping in his room and wishes to not be disturbed."

Dean flashed a toothy grin and giggled. He grabbed his partners wrist and lowered it below his chin. He whispered, "Poor Sicky Sammy. In that case, we need to be extra quiet tonight~" He pulled Cas's hand to his lips and kissed his bony knuckles.

Castiel pulled his hand back quickly. He looked into Dean's disappointed, bright green eyes and said, "Not tonight Dean. I'm too tired for that." In fact, he was exhausted. He had been taking care of Sam the entire day, from making him soup to adding more ice for his ice pack. Even though Sam claimed to be well enough to be independent, the angel stuck with him to make sure he doesn't overwhelm himself. He turned around and walked a few steps back to Sam's room, but stopped when a heavy hand rested on his right shoulder.

Dean forcefully turned the angel back around to face him and wrapped his arms around his neck. The demon hunter then planted rough kisses on the angel's cheek, down to his neck. Castiel tried to gently push him away, but Dean's grip grew stronger the more he tried to wiggle his way out. "But Cas~" He whined.

"Dean. I said no."

Cas felt a sharp pain in his back. Dean had slid his hands under the unsuspecting angel's shirt and dug his nails deep into his bare back. "Cas... Please..."

The sweet, pungent smell of alcohol filled the angel's nose, but Dean's kisses felt aggressive and he had begun to bite on his collar bone. The longer Castiel delayed his answer, the deeper the agitated man dug his nails. Pretty soon blood would have been shed. Again...

He knew that there was no stopping the drunk man once he was in the mood. He sighed, "Is it_ that_ bad?"

In-between kisses, he muttered, "Yeah... It's really, really bad... It might be hard for me... To hold back tonight." He continued to kiss his neck as he started to undo his blue tie.

The angel stopped fighting back. His arms fell to his side and he relaxed his muscles. "Go all out if you must."

Dean grabbed Castiel's thighs tightly and pulled them up above his hips. The drunk demon hunter carried him as they made their way to his bedroom. After he closed the door behind him, he sat the angel on the edge of the bed and knelt down on the in-between his thighs. Dean hastily unbuckled the angel's belt and slid his hand up and down his member.

With his adjusted night vision, Castiel looked down to observe the horny man's appearance. The bottom of his eye were tinted with red and slight hues of purple. He could see that the demon hunter was on the edge for some reason as his hands trembled slightly and he bit down on his lip.

When Castiel's piece was lubricated, Dean lowered his head and sucked on it. Even though he swallowed, some of it found it's way to his cheeks and sides of his lip. He looked up at the angel and placed a kiss on his lips. Suddenly, Dean grabbed both of his wrists and pinned his hands together above his head on the bed. His wrists were in pain when Dean had dug his nails into them. With the angel restrained, Dean slid his free hand down the side of his waist to his hip as he continued to steal sloppy kisses from his partner, he seemed almost hungry for his lips. Dean pulled down his zipper and slid his hand up and down his own member. His semen squirted onto Cas's bare stomach. He then thrusted his piece into the angel. Cas gritted his teeth and shut his eyes. The pain caused his head to feel as though it were spinning. The air got hotter as he into thrusted himself against Castiel's hips, who remained unresponsive.

"Cas..." The lustful man as he parted lips with the angel.

Suddenly, what seemed like drops of sweat fell onto Cas's face and rolled down the side of his face. But was it really sweat?

Through his heavy breaths, he muttered shakily, "I love you, Cas."

The angel didn't reply, neither did he open his eyes. The way he said that statement was extremely dry and gravelly, almost like a forceful choke, rather than it coming from the heart. Castiel didn't feel the same toward him when they copulated. It was extremely painful for his end, both mentally and physically. So much so, that he had to hold back his tears in fear that it would aggravate Dean. But he endured it for his friend. He would do anything to make Dean happy, even if it means he had to suffer doing so.

Dean lowered his head closer to his partner's and smashed his lips against Cas's. He made no effort to kiss Dean back, but it didn't matter. Dean managed to slide his tongue inside his mouth. He moaned deeper and a bit louder into his mouth as he climaxed inside of the angel.

Castiel opened his eyes and starred up at the grey ceiling as Dean fell on his left side on the bed. He looked to his side and met with eyes of a tearful man. His glassy, bright green eyes that were filled with water. Dean grabbed the emotionless man's hand and pulled it toward his cheek. "I'm sorry," he muttered in a brittle tone.

Castiel's entire body ached. He wondered what he meant in the eyes of his partner. Was he a man for comfort? A lover? Or a mere item for Dean to "relieve" himself? From what it looks like, it seemed that the angel was simply a toy for the demon hunter to dump all of his stress onto. If anything seemed that if anything it only worsened Dean's problems. He could see the guilt in his baggy, crystallized eyes. The way he avoided eye contact whenever they met and the shame in his narrowed eyes and curled lips. Why doesn't he talk about his feelings? Even though the angel admits that he is not the best when it comes to giving therapeutic talks, it sure is a lot better than having regretful, meaningless sex.

The angel softly placed his free hand on the brunette's messy head and pulled him softy to his bare chest, where the demon hunter sobbed. This is the type of stress reliever that Cas believed would help his friend more. But it seems that it wouldn't happen anytime soon. The angel embraced the sobbing man until he fell asleep, only to wake up as though nothing had happened. Like he always did.


	4. Goldfish

_Author's Note: I wish there were decent carnivals where I'm from. They're always so rachet and dirty and ugh! Also I won't be online for 3 weeks cuz I'm goin to Montevideo! See ya'll later!_

_As Sam stayed home to do more occult research, Dean and Castiel went on a date to the town carnival. The dark orange and purple colors of the sky were masked by the bright, multicolored lights of the rides. The two were more fixed on the array of prizes rather than the stomach churning coasters. The angel won most of the prizes such as a plush shark and a small gumball machine filled with treats. He had claimed that he hadn't used his powers during the games, but when he effortlessly brought down the mallet and shattered the bell, Dean knew something supernatural was at play. The demon hunter had also won a plethora of items, like a 6ft pink teddy bear. But the one that that they prized the most were a pair of goldfish, which Dean won and gave to his lover. One was the basic, slim gold-orange fish, whereas the other was as black as coal with a pair of protruding amber eyes. The two feasted on funnel cakes and corn dogs before they drove back home as the carnival had gotten ready to close._

When they entered their home, Sam sat on the couch with a book on in one hand and a mug of tea on the other. It was difficult for Dean to enter as he carried the 6ft stuffed bear, but he managed to slide through. "Hey guys," Sam greeted. "How was the carniva-"

The elated angel dashed toward Sam and shoved the bag close to his face. He exclaimed, "Look Sam! It's two Carassius Auratus Auratus's! Or what you would call them, goldfish!"

"Whoa. T-They're really c-cute," he said in a hesitant tone as he starred into the protruding eyes of the goldfish. "What are their names?"

"Dean named the orange one Goldie and I named the black one Hibuna, which if you didn't know is another name for goldfish."

"I won those little suckers in a game booth. Ironically, it was the shooting one. I shot a few bulls eyes and I won with flying colors," he boasted. Dean tossed the stuffed animal toward his brother. He grinned, "I got you that so you don't get lonely at night."

Sam glared at him when his older brother sent him a wink. "That's awesome, but, can I talk with you for a bit? Alone?"

"Sure." He asked his excited partner to take out the rest of the stuffed animals from the Impala and to set up the fish tank in their room. Cas happily obligated himself to do so and vanished. "What's up brother? Don't like your present?"

Sam set his book and mug on the coffee table. "How do I put this... You should get rid of the fish."

"What?"

"Give back the fish. Cas doesn't do so well with animals."

"What are you talking about? Cas is great with animals. He loves them more than people!"

"But do you remember when Cas "adopted" that squirrel?"

It took Dean a few moments to think back on that event. The angel had come home on a cold day with a sick creature in his hands, which he remembered to be riddled with small bite marks. "The one that didn't have an eye? Yeah, what about it?"

"He really, really loved that squirrel. He nurtured it, and practically raised it. He felt really proud about it. But do you remember what happened next?"

He scratched his head as he tried to remember, but it was oddly fuzzy to him. "No... Not really."

"It got run over by a truck, Dean," he said bluntly. "It was squished to a pulp and it's guts splattered everywhere."

Dean snapped his fingers one he remembered. "Oh yeah! I remember now! But wasn't Cas-"

"He was mentally scarred, Dean! Cas went into a depression for a whole month because of a disabled squirrel!"

"Ohmigod Sam," he groaned. "A one-eyed squirrel isn't the same as a fish. They don't go out and try to get run over. They swim around in their bowls and entertain kids, and angels."

"That's not the point! What if the fish die?! How will Cas react to that?! He can't be moping around when we need him just because of some fish!"

"Well then I'll just have to-"

A voice from above interrupted their argument. "Dean! Can you help me set up the bowl?! The instructions confuse me!"

"Commin' babe," he replied. He headed toward the staircase and walked up a few steps. He turned his head and looked back at his brother. "Just have some faith in him. He'll do fine."

Sam grabbed his book, with the bear still in his arms, and continued reading. "I'm just warning you," he muttered under his breath.

The next morning, Dean woke up with his stomach curdling painfully. He had a rough night of tossing and turning from the pain, which didn't interrupt the angel's sleep one bit. His gut felt like it was making cottage cheese. He removed the sheets off of him, wobbled out of bed and dashed toward the bathroom. He dropped to his knees in front of the toilet and vomited. He flushed the mess of digested food and pushed himself on his feet. He took a few steps toward the sink and turned on the faucet. He bent down a bit and splashed cold water onto his face. When he looked back up, Cas stood behind him.

"Are you alright, Dean?"

"I'm-I'm fine... I think it was all the suspicious corn dogs I ate." His throat felt groggy and his mouth tasted a bit acidic. He cupped some cold water in his hand and slurped it. He swooshed it around his mouth and spit the water out. "I'm gonna go outside and get some fresh air. You can go back to sleep."

"No need. I'll join you outside once I'm changed." With that, the angel walked back to the room.

Dean changed as well, using the clothes from the bathroom floor after his shower. He put on a dark green v-neck, some slightly dirty jeans and his black jacket.

Outside, Dean sat on the first row of stairs with his legs sprawled across the other few steps. His chest filled with the crisp air and he relaxed his shoulders when he exhaled. He slowly felt more and more healed. His stomach didn't ache and the acidity in his throat began to fade away. Now that he thinks more into it, the corn dogs were a bit on the green side...

"Feeling better?" Castiel asked as he sat elbow-to-elbow with Dean.

"A bit." He peered to his side. He ogled at Cas's wild bed hair and trailed down his bearded face to his unevenly buttoned shirt, which exposed a bit of his defined collar bone. He grinned, "But do you know what would make me feel even better?" He leaned his lips closer to the angel's pink ones. His hands then found their way to his hair and he slid his tongue in the angel's mouth. He really didn't give a damn if they were making out in public. It was too early for anyone to see anyway. For a short second, he glimpsed down and met eyes with large, amber ones. He quickly parted his lips from Cas. "What the hell Cas?!"

Confused on his unusual action, he asked, "What's the matter, Dean?" Without the knowledge of his startled lover, Castiel had brought the fish with him and rested the bowl on his lap since he sat down.

"That creepy ass fish keeps starring! I feel like it's starring into my soul and waiting to find the right moment to stab me to death!"

"But Dean. Goldfish have an attention span of 30 seconds, so Hibuna wouldn't have time to decide on whether or not to hate you enough to stab you." He explained. Suddenly, his eyes widened and his face lit up. He added, "Not only that, but did you know that in the Song Dynasty of China, yellow goldfish were forbidden to outsiders of the imperial family since gold was their imperial color. Did you also know that..."

As his lover kept blabbering on about the fish, Dean felt his eyelids get heavier and heavier. His vision blurred and his head leaned onto the white railing of the stairs. Soon, he completely cancelled out on everything.

...

"_dean_... Dean!"

"Cas?! W-What's goin' on?! What day is this?!" When he looked up, the sky was blue and the clouds were pure white. Significantly different that the grey, dark sky from earlier.

"It's still Tuesday. You fell asleep on the porch, so I stayed and sat with you. Except for a moment where I teleported to a nearby garage sa-."

Odd. Dean noticed that Cas was standing instead of sitting, like what he had done previously. Castiel had the goldfish in their small bowl wrapped in his right arm. Dean trailed his eyes down Cas's left arm, which held the handle of a red kiddie wagon."Wait... What are you doing?"

"I'm taking the fish out for a walk."

Just when he thought the innocent angel wouldn't get any more adorable, he had to go and pull this stunt. He tightly pressed his mouth to hold in his burst of laughter and to hide his curled lips. "Pft. W-What?"

"The internet didn't provide any fish leashes, so I got this wagon from a nearby garage sale and figured this was a good alternative."

"D-Don't you know that fish don't need to be walked," he stated, still trying to hold in his laughter.

"I know. I thought it would be nice to just take them out once in a while to see the outside instead of being cooped up inside our room. Would you like to walk them with me?"

He pressed his hands onto his knees and pushed himself up onto his feet. "No-can-do. I'm gonna go back inside and eat somethin'." Right after he said the last word, his stomach grumbled loudly.

Cas didn't mind Dean staying home. Dean had a rough night and a not so splendid morning. Dean needed his rest. He explained that he'll walk around the neighborhood and be back in a little over an hour. He waved farewell and walked down the steps as Dean walked up them.

As he stood on the doorway, Dean peered over his shoulder to observe the angel. Castiel placed the fishbowl in the wagon and strolled down the street as he whistled a tune that resembled the song that the dwarf's from that one Disney movie sang. His head rocked side to side and his stroll synced with the tune of the song. Dean stayed on the porch until the whistling from his partner faded away.

In the kitchen, he opened the fridge and squatted down to take a deeper look inside. Inside the amber lit compartments contained nothing but some banana peels and an empty pie tray. He slammed the door in frustration and pulled himself a seat. He sat on the wooden chair, rested his head on his forearms on the dining table, and sulked. His stomach was now in pain from hunger rather than sickness. A few moment later, he heard plastic rustling and heavy footsteps.

When he looked up, Sam came into the kitchen with a bag of groceries and his brow raised. "Umm... Is Cas walking the-"

"Don't question it, Sammy."


End file.
